


What did my arms do (before they held you)

by lycheerio



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:46:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24961042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lycheerio/pseuds/lycheerio
Summary: Taeyong was smiling at him, wide and beautiful, the edges of sadness still there but less present, less palpable and he felt like he was looking into the sun again.It blistered, made his skin tingle and Doyoung was happy to let it happen, happy to burn up.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	What did my arms do (before they held you)

**Author's Note:**

> To my wife - I know times are tough, but I'll always be here. 
> 
> My darling stinky butt.

Sometimes looking at Taeyong was like looking into the sun, bright and intense, burning Doyoung from the inside out. It was beautiful and painful in a careless way only Taeyong could pull off, and he shone when nothing else seemed to. Doyoung felt foolish when he’d failed to notice the waning light over the last few months, too caught up in his own head to see the glow starting to dim.

“Yongie?” The bedroom was dark, unmoving, the only sign that Taeyong was in the room was the lump in the middle of the bed and a phone left haphazardly on his side table, flung there at some point and left to drain of charge.  
Doyoung carefully closed the door, shutting out the low rumbles of noise from the living room, bursts of conversation and music silenced by heavy wood. “Yong, are you okay?” A stupid question, one that made Doyoung bite his cheek in annoyance at himself. He could see Taeyong wasn’t okay, and Taeyong knew that.

The lump shifted, twisted and heaved, elongated as limbs were untucked and resettled. Taeyong’s head soon appeared, popping out from the bottom of the duvet, a mess of dark hair and wide, red-rimmed eyes. He looked pathetically tiny, like the world had pushed in from all sides and forced him into a new form that was incapable of holding the burdens placed on his shoulders.

“Doyoungie.” Taeyong sighed out, voice cracked and raw from either disuse or crying. Doyoung wasn’t sure which, only knew that it made his insides ache. “What’s wrong?”  
A startled laugh of disbelief surged through Doyoung’s chest, sounding out into the loud room unbidden as he stared at Taeyong.

“Yongie, what do you mean? That’s- it doesn’t matter if there’s anything wrong with me, I’m here for you.” Doyoung moved forward until he was at the edge of the mattress, looking down at Taeyong, looking at the bruises under his eyes, the tear stains shining against his cheeks that spoke of hours like this, hours dealing with restrained and careful sadness alone.

Doyoung ached for him.

“Why? Did something happen?” Genuine concern laced through Taeyong’s voice and it made a laugh burst from Doyoung again, this time followed by a head shake as he tried to stop the fondness that bubbled inside of him from spilling over.

“Nothing happened Yong, I’m just worried about you,” Doyoung said softly whilst reaching a hand out to slide over Taeyong’s forehead, moving strands of hair away from where they were laying too close to his eyes. It was a knotted mess, a product of unfettered hours of tossing and turning. Doyoung wished Taeyong had called for him, had reached out to any one of the many people around him so he wasn’t alone.

Taeyong shifted, rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and Doyoung knew he was trying to pack everything away, trying to hide the way he was hurting.  
“Yong, Tongue, I know you’ve been crying, I can see you’re sad.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, reached out to rub his thumb across Taeyong’s cheek, soothing over the still-damp skin there.

He wondered, absurdly, if tears were good for the skin.

Taeyong sighed and leaned into the touch, looking at Doyoung with large, watery eyes that made him look like a lost deer. “It’s not sadness per se, it’s just- everything is too much, like a wave that got too big and now it can only fall.” A shuddering inhale and a hard swallow, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to keep back more tears. “I feel like I’m drifting.”

Doyoung understood, had his own peaks and drops on a regular basis, allowed himself to dwell and sink often enough that it was no longer a momentous occasion. Taeyong - beautiful and caring - always rescued him, waded out into the abyss that was Doyoung’s mind and dragged him back to the surface, reminding him of how bright it could be when you weren’t sinking.

He looked at the contour of Taeyong’s lower lip, the small pout that pushed out without thought, the curve of his eyebrows as he tried to keep a frown from his face, and Doyoung willingly pushed himself out, determined to drag Taeyong back with him onto dry land.

“You’re not drifting, I have you - see?” He tapped his thumb against Taeyong’s cheek and Taeyong huffed out an almost laugh, a sudden exhalation of air and a quirk of his eyebrows that told Doyoung he didn’t appreciate the joke.

“And-” He continued, swallowing around the cotton that had lodged itself into his throat, ignoring the way his eyes stung with unshed sympathy tears. “I will always reach out for you, I will never let you float away.”

Taeyong’s lip quivered, his eyes widening impossibly, and then he was crying again, hot tears rolling down his face, gathering against Doyoung’s hand to roll down his wrist in fat droplets. Taeyong sniffled, his nose and cheeks turning a blotchy pink.

“Don’t say that Doie, I don’t deserve it.” Shaky once more, rawer than before, sounding smaller and smaller with each word. Protectiveness wormed through Doyoung, made him burn with it and he moved to hold Taeyong’s chin, pressed his fingers into the skin until Taeyong’s eyes were on him properly.

“Don’t you say that then, never say that. You will always be deserving, always. You’re more than worthy, you work so hard, you keep us all together, you push yourself even though you shouldn’t. It’s us who don’t deserve you.” Doyoung said fiercely, wanting to embed the words in Taeyong’s mind, tattoo them on his soul until he believed them.

When the world was black and grey instead of hued with colour, Doyoung always had similar thoughts, felt like he couldn’t breathe with how cloying it could become, the deep hurt expanding painfully inside his chest until he couldn’t bear it anymore.  
Taeyong had been feeling like this, feeling unworthy and Doyoung hadn’t noticed.

“You deserve better.” Taeyong sobbed, tears coalescing and dripping across his skin to soak into the bedsheet underneath him. Doyoung moved without thinking, laid down next to Taeyong and pulled him in close, let Taeyong press against him and sob into the fabric of his shirt.

“I don’t, I really don’t - You don’t know how perfect you are, do you? How much I…” It was too close to a confession and Doyoung pressed his tongue behind his teeth, forced the words that tried to escape - kept trying to escape with every shared laugh and stupid play-fight - back, refused to let his yearning jump to the forefront of their conversation. “... care about you- We all care about you.”

“‘M not perfect,” Taeyong muttered, his hand curling into the cloth of Doyoung’s baggy shirt as his cheeks and ears turn ever more pink, the praise making him curl forward in an embarrassment that Doyoung loved to watch unfold.

“To me you are.” He wondered if Taeyong was listening to the fast-paced staccato of his heart, the way it pounded and reverberated through him as he let himself enjoy the closeness. He wanted to leap, jump off the cliff of his restrained feelings, and land in the great unknown beyond. “I know I don’t say it a lot, I know but you’re so important to me, Taeyong.”

Doyoung closed his eyes, took a steadying breath, before lifting Taeyong’s head so he could lean down and press his lips to the soft skin of Taeyong’s, feeling rather than hearing the small gasp that followed it.

It was agonisingly quiet, seconds ticking by that had Doyoung regretting, but as soon as he tried to pull away, there were hands tightening their hold on his shirt, pulling him up again until they were kissing properly. 

Taeyong’s lips were chapped from too long spent crying, his hands were shaking against Doyoung’s chest with his own emotions but Doyoung thought it was perfect. He kissed like he needed Doyoung to breathe and Doyoung kissed back with as much intensity, letting his aching wants bleed into his actions just to listen to the high and reedy whine he got from Taeyong in return.

I love you, I love you, I love you, he wanted to say when Taeyong curled over him more firmly, deepening the kiss into something slicker, messier. Doyoung’s soul burned with the weight of his affection and he moved to press his longing against Taeyong’s cheeks, over the bridge of his nose, against the curve of his jaw, in soft, aching kisses, listening to Taeyong breath and gasp with each one.

When he pulled back, Doyoung felt strangely breathless, his heart hammering in his chest and his stomach a swirling mess of nerves but Taeyong was smiling at him, wide and beautiful, the edges of sadness still there but less present, less palpable and he felt like he was looking into the sun again. It blistered, made his skin tingle and Doyoung was happy to let it happen, happy to burn up.

“You’re important to me too, Doie. I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting, I hope it's okay.  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/lycheerio)


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